<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458</id><updated>2011-07-08T08:49:00.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girasoles</title><subtitle type='html'>Ela Grotaa</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-5064508243041679692</id><published>2010-05-15T16:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T16:09:01.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Regalo para mi amiga Larisa, el dia que se casara con su dominicano :)</title><content type='html'>Cerraron la puerta de los dias sin besos;&lt;br /&gt;el cielo la cerro para ellos&lt;br /&gt;y en el amanecer de los sueños, aparecio el arco iris,&lt;br /&gt;un arco iris al que no le daremos nombres,&lt;br /&gt;ellos lo harán todos los días.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haran las paces y la guerra del amor,&lt;br /&gt;haran café por la mañana y niños&lt;br /&gt;y hagan lo que hagan lo haran siempre juntos,&lt;br /&gt;nunca mas separados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El océano jamas volvera a ser cruel con ellos,&lt;br /&gt;hasta se olvidaran de que una vez se interpuso en sus caminos,&lt;br /&gt;lo unico que habra sera dos corazones y un solo amor&lt;br /&gt;sin fronteras,&lt;br /&gt;sin colores,&lt;br /&gt;incierto para los que le ponen reglas al amor,&lt;br /&gt;infinito para los que se entregan sin preguntas,&lt;br /&gt;sin gota de egoísmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cerraron la puerta de los dias sin besos,&lt;br /&gt;la cerraron y tiraron la llave,&lt;br /&gt;bloquearon el candado,&lt;br /&gt;quitaron las nubes y los sillones de una sola persona&lt;br /&gt;y en el felpudo de su casa escribieron para todos,&lt;br /&gt;tanto para los de buena fe, como para los que andan sin ella:&lt;br /&gt;“aquí vivimos nosotros, polos opuestos, pero con corazones del mismo color.&lt;br /&gt;Nos amamos y lo haremos hasta que las cerezas se vuelvan grises&lt;br /&gt;y la leche de coco de un rojo brillante.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cerraron la puerta de los dias sin besos&lt;br /&gt;y los que sabemos lo que duele la distancia y hasta tenemos cicatrices,&lt;br /&gt;sonreimos y somos felices por ellos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-5064508243041679692?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/5064508243041679692/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=5064508243041679692' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/5064508243041679692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/5064508243041679692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2010/05/regalo-para-mi-amiga-larisa-el-dia-que.html' title='Regalo para mi amiga Larisa, el dia que se casara con su dominicano :)'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-2823216601274344933</id><published>2009-08-25T02:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T02:13:31.821-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuestra luna(poema traducido al rumano)</title><content type='html'>Tu priveai luna ta,&lt;br /&gt;În timp ce eu cealaltă parte a lunii&lt;br /&gt;Insă curcubeul iubirii nu ne-a promis nimic niciodată.&lt;br /&gt;Al meu,&lt;br /&gt;De un mov împletit cu flori de lalea sau coji de nuci pierdute prin frunzele de cireş împrăştiate prin grădina copilăriei în toamnă,&lt;br /&gt;Nu seamană deloc cu al tău&lt;br /&gt;Unde palmieri înalţi pe o plajă plină de cârlionţi de domnişoare prea vesele pentru gustul tău,&lt;br /&gt;Răcoreau pe oricine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nici luna,&lt;br /&gt;nici sărutul se încadrau în nici o parte a fotoliului în solitarile sâmbete seară.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am privit luna ta într-o zi se februarie&lt;br /&gt;Şi m-am îndrăgostit mai tare de pielea ta de ciocolată&lt;br /&gt;Decât de partea albastră a paradisului fraged şi neliniştit despre care niciodată nu auzisem vorbindu-se.&lt;br /&gt;Am privit luna ta îmbrăţişaţi&lt;br /&gt;Şi nu mi s-a mai părut o lună,&lt;br /&gt;Ci o turtă de pâine din acelea pe care bunica le făcea la vatră.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-ai sărutat şi picioarele şi am ştiut imediat că nu-mi va mai fi dor de luna mea&lt;br /&gt;Căci micuţii noştrii cu ochi de miere şi piele de culoarea cafelei palide&lt;br /&gt;Vor colora pentru noi&lt;br /&gt;De fiecare dată când adormim fără să privim luna,&lt;br /&gt;A noastră,&lt;br /&gt;Luna noastră pe care o vom privi îmbrăţişaţi din ziua în care îmi voi muta bagajele la tine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-2823216601274344933?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/2823216601274344933/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=2823216601274344933' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/2823216601274344933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/2823216601274344933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/nuestra-lunapoema-traducido-al-rumano.html' title='Nuestra luna(poema traducido al rumano)'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-3263435799042931528</id><published>2009-08-25T02:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T08:59:37.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuestra luna</title><content type='html'>Tú mirabas tu luna,&lt;br /&gt;mientras yo su otro lado&lt;br /&gt;y el arcoíris del amor nunca nos prometió nada.&lt;br /&gt;El mío,&lt;br /&gt;morado con flores de tulipán o cascaras de nueces mezcladas&lt;br /&gt;con hojas de cerezas tiradas por el jardín de la infancia en otoño,&lt;br /&gt;no se parecía nada al tuyo,&lt;br /&gt;donde palmeras altas en una playa llena de rizos de señoritas demasiado alegres para tu gusto,&lt;br /&gt;refrescaban a cualquiera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ni la luna,&lt;br /&gt;ni el beso encajaban en ningún lado de nuestros sofás en los solitarios sábado tristes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mire tu luna un día de febrero&lt;br /&gt;y me enamore mas de tu piel de chocolate&lt;br /&gt;que de la parte azul del paraíso mas tierno y descuidado del que nunca antes había oído hablar.&lt;br /&gt;Mire la luna abrazada a ti y ya no me pareció una luna,&lt;br /&gt;sino una barra de pan&lt;br /&gt;de las que mi abuela hacia al horno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besaste mis pies y supe enseguida&lt;br /&gt;que a mi luna nunca mas la echare de menos&lt;br /&gt;ya que nuestros pequeños con ojos de miel y piel de color café claro,&lt;br /&gt;colorearan una para nosotros&lt;br /&gt;cada vez que nos quedemos dormidos sin mirar la luna,&lt;br /&gt;la nuestra,&lt;br /&gt;la luna que miraremos abrazados una vez que traiga mis maletas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-3263435799042931528?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/3263435799042931528/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=3263435799042931528' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/3263435799042931528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/3263435799042931528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/nuestra-luna.html' title='Nuestra luna'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-6580412263357669663</id><published>2009-08-07T15:49:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T15:54:17.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doar mirii pot scrie la nunta lor... şi după! ( cadou pentru miri: Odrida&amp;Adelin )</title><content type='html'>răscoliţi de lunile pline... &lt;br /&gt;din vară,&lt;br /&gt;dragostea v-a surprins îmbujorându-vă chiar şi în vârful degetelor,&lt;br /&gt;iar noi am şoşotit zâmbind de fericire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v-au scris pescăruşii cu un albastru emotiv, fraged,&lt;br /&gt;dar noi le-am furat poezia dorind să v-o facem cadou;&lt;br /&gt;cine însă poate competi cu iubirea din ochii voştrii?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am încercat să vă scriem cu toţii văzându-vă dragostea clocotindă,&lt;br /&gt;însă ceea ce îşi scriu sufletele voastre unul altuia, &lt;br /&gt;este o indescriptibilă minune;&lt;br /&gt;singura minune a cărei viaţă este mai lungă decât veşnicia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;azi,&lt;br /&gt;scriu cu sâmburi de căpşună,&lt;br /&gt;iar căpşunile&lt;br /&gt;v-au scris şi ele cu peniţe de culoarea fericirii:&lt;br /&gt;dulce e iubirea,&lt;br /&gt;însă a voastră e mai dulce decât am putea scrie sau cânta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cu mâinile tremurânde pe câte un baston înţelept,&lt;br /&gt;obosiţi de viaţă,&lt;br /&gt;însă încă însetaţi de săruturi,&lt;br /&gt;zâmbind dintr-un leagăn împovărat de istorii fericite,&lt;br /&gt;le veţi cânta nepoţilor,&lt;br /&gt;povestea a două inimi pecetluite iremediabil de dragoste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-6580412263357669663?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/6580412263357669663/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=6580412263357669663' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/6580412263357669663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/6580412263357669663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/doar-mirii-pot-scrie-la-nunta-lor-si.html' title='Doar mirii pot scrie la nunta lor... şi după! ( cadou pentru miri: Odrida&amp;Adelin )'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-284407373027575670</id><published>2009-08-07T15:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T16:00:32.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Versuri de nuntă pentru îndrăgostiţi necunoscuţi cu care mă simt identificată :-P</title><content type='html'>E negru oceanul,&lt;br /&gt;iar luna&lt;br /&gt;era gri, prea gri&lt;br /&gt;când de departe,&lt;br /&gt;nu existau ochii ei să-ţi lumineze dimineţile fără gust, fără culoare, fără zâmbetu-i irezistibil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunteţi aici, amândoi;&lt;br /&gt;cu inimile cât degetarul,&lt;br /&gt;bătând cu putere de-o emoţie asurzitoare.&lt;br /&gt;Spre seară, veţi aprinde lumânări pe-o prispă veche,&lt;br /&gt;lângă o iubire proaspăt scoasă din cuptor;&lt;br /&gt;iar în sobă vor mocni scrisori îmbibate cu lacrimi de dor&lt;br /&gt;ce azi sunt trecut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zâmbiţi plini de curaj,&lt;br /&gt;un curaj căruia îi atârnă mănunchi de cireşe la urechi.&lt;br /&gt;Sfidând norii, furtuna,&lt;br /&gt;aţi plantat din timp butuci de vie,&lt;br /&gt;pentru a servi must la nunta voastră de argint, de aur…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au iesit speriaţi bobocii viselor sădite&lt;br /&gt;de inimile voastre îndrăgostite lulea,&lt;br /&gt;iar răsăritul v-a pedepsit dragostea cu răcoarea ploii din apus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am întrebat pe Dumnezeu dacă vă va aduce cadouri la nuntă.&lt;br /&gt;„Dar iubirea ce este?Un joc?” Mi-a răspuns.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-a fost ruşine că n-am priceput adâncimea cadourilor Lui.&lt;br /&gt;Iubirea e-o minune&lt;br /&gt;Ce nu durează nici trei zile, nici cât o bătaie de palmă,&lt;br /&gt;Ci cât se întinde veşnicia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-284407373027575670?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/284407373027575670/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=284407373027575670' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/284407373027575670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/284407373027575670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/poezie-de-nunta.html' title='Versuri de nuntă pentru îndrăgostiţi necunoscuţi cu care mă simt identificată :-P'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-6264427103428446063</id><published>2009-08-07T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T15:47:52.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>S-au dus zilele de tristeţe( version en castellano, poema traducido)</title><content type='html'>Volaron los días de tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Y celebramos la felicidad a nuestro estilo, no como en el circo.&lt;br /&gt;Crujiendo caramelos de chocolate&lt;br /&gt;De distintos colores,&lt;br /&gt;Nos trae sin cuidado las cascaras de pipas tiradas por los vagabundos junto a los bancos en la calle del centro.&lt;br /&gt;Todo parece de un rosa que aun no fue inventado.&lt;br /&gt;Salió la luna&lt;br /&gt;Y  bajo ella, &lt;br /&gt;el beso parece un beso de oro&lt;br /&gt;Y la sonrisa&lt;br /&gt;De las que se cuelgan en el panó de anuncios, cerca del ayuntamiento.&lt;br /&gt;Contamos los faroles con una risa que saca de quicio a los que le han roto el corazón.&lt;br /&gt;Contamos los faroles sin que nos importe el número,&lt;br /&gt;Los contamos usando rimas extrañas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volaron los días de tristeza &lt;br /&gt;Y celebramos la felicidad a nuestro estilo, no como en el circo.&lt;br /&gt;Es fácil: hemos firmado en el registro,&lt;br /&gt;Declarándonos enamorados;&lt;br /&gt;Aun más enamorados que Romeo y Julieta, &lt;br /&gt;Aunque nadie nos creo.&lt;br /&gt;Pero a quien le importa nadie?&lt;br /&gt;Que importa si fuera esta nublado o el cielo anuncia una tormenta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volaron los días de tristeza &lt;br /&gt;Tenemos los corazones vestidos en trajes de amor; &lt;br /&gt;Un amor que no tiene fecha de caducidad, ni sabe que existe el mildéu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-6264427103428446063?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/6264427103428446063/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=6264427103428446063' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/6264427103428446063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/6264427103428446063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/s-au-dus-zilele-de-tristete-version-en.html' title='S-au dus zilele de tristeţe( version en castellano, poema traducido)'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-2703630691506686609</id><published>2009-08-05T04:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T04:44:55.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>S-au dus zilele de tristeţe</title><content type='html'>S-au dus zilele de tristeţe&lt;br /&gt;şi sărbătorim fericirea în stilul nostru, nu ca la circ.&lt;br /&gt;Ronţăind bomboane de ciocolată&lt;br /&gt;de diferite colori,&lt;br /&gt;ne pasă prea puţin de cojile de seminţe aruncate de huligani lângă băncile de pe strada din centru.&lt;br /&gt;Totul pare de un roz bombon ce încă nu fusese inventat.&lt;br /&gt;A ieşit luna şi sub ea,&lt;br /&gt;Sărutul pare un sărut de aur,&lt;br /&gt;iar zâmbetul,&lt;br /&gt;unul de pus la panoul cu anunţuri, de lângă primărie.&lt;br /&gt;Numărăm felinarele cu un râs enervant pentru cei răniţi în dragoste.&lt;br /&gt;Numărăm felinarele fără să ne pese de număr;&lt;br /&gt;le numărăm folosind rime deocheate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S-au dus zilele de tristeţe&lt;br /&gt;şi sărbătorim fericirea în stilul nostru, nu ca la circ.&lt;br /&gt;E simplu: am semnat în registru&lt;br /&gt;şi ne-am declarat îndrăgostiţi;&lt;br /&gt;mai îndrăgostiţi ca Romeo şi Julieta, chiar dacă nu ne-a crezut nimeni.&lt;br /&gt;Dar cui îi pasă de nimeni?&lt;br /&gt;Cui îi pasă dacă afară-i înnorat, iar cerul pregătit de furtună?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S-au sus zilele de tristeţe.&lt;br /&gt;Ni-s sufletele îmbrăcate în iubire;&lt;br /&gt;într-o dragoste ce nu cunoaşte data expirării şi nici n-a auzit de mucegai.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-2703630691506686609?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/2703630691506686609/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=2703630691506686609' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/2703630691506686609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/2703630691506686609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/s-au-dus-zilele-de-tristete.html' title='S-au dus zilele de tristeţe'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-5967481406018980315</id><published>2009-08-05T04:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T04:46:38.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Solo se me ocurre pensando en tus ojos (versiune romaneasca; versuri traduse)</title><content type='html'>Ai atins pana si calcaiele viselor mele&lt;br /&gt;Cu dragostea ta linistita, calda;&lt;br /&gt;Iar in noapte vecinii nu-mi mai aud suspinele,&lt;br /&gt;Ci doar inima-mi batand pentru tine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te caut asa cum luna-si cauta perechea,&lt;br /&gt;Insa adoarme visand;&lt;br /&gt;La fel cum eu visez ca-n rasarit ma trezesc imbratisarile tale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-e greu sa scriu cantece pentru tine.&lt;br /&gt;Imi par cuvintele goale, fara culoare, fara gust&lt;br /&gt;Si tot ce fac este sa sper ca intr-o zi (cuvintele)vor naste copilasi mai plini de viata; mai indragostiti de iubire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu mi-e frica de nimic cu tine.&lt;br /&gt;Tem doar o intrebare:&lt;br /&gt;¿Cine va bea acest ocean fara suflet ce este aproape la fel de mare ca dragostea noastra?&lt;br /&gt;Insa tot ce imi revine-n minte sunt ochii tai&lt;br /&gt;Si numar zilele ramas cu un calculator performant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-5967481406018980315?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/5967481406018980315/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=5967481406018980315' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/5967481406018980315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/5967481406018980315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/solo-se-me-ocurre-pensando-en-tus-ojos.html' title='Solo se me ocurre pensando en tus ojos (versiune romaneasca; versuri traduse)'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-10189719216012092</id><published>2009-08-05T04:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T04:42:44.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>y solo se me ocurre pensando en tus ojos</title><content type='html'>Rozaste hasta los talones de mis sueños&lt;br /&gt;Con tu amor silencioso, calido&lt;br /&gt;Y en la noche,&lt;br /&gt;Mis vecinos ya no escuchan mis suspiros;&lt;br /&gt;Sino a mi corazón latiendo por ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te busco como cuando la luna busca a su chico,&lt;br /&gt;Pero se queda dormida soñando;&lt;br /&gt;Igual que yo sueño en abrazarme a ti al despertarme en la madrugada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me cuesta escribir canciones por ti.&lt;br /&gt;Encuentro las palabras desnudas, sin color, sin sabor&lt;br /&gt;Y solo espero el dia que ellas darán la luz niños vivos, enamorados del amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No temo nada contigo.&lt;br /&gt;Excepto al preguntarme&lt;br /&gt;¿Quien se beberá este océano sin alma, que es casi tan grande como nuestro amor?&lt;br /&gt;Y solo se me ocurre pensando en tus ojos&lt;br /&gt;Y contando los días&lt;br /&gt;Con una calculadora potente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-10189719216012092?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/10189719216012092/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=10189719216012092' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/10189719216012092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/10189719216012092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/y-solo-se-me-ocurre-pensando-en-tus.html' title='y solo se me ocurre pensando en tus ojos'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-8675034338827159273</id><published>2009-08-05T04:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T04:41:55.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>punto</title><content type='html'>el, el, el, el, el, el...&lt;br /&gt;no hay punto.&lt;br /&gt;solo esperanza que algun dia lo habra.&lt;br /&gt;quieres ser mi punto?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-8675034338827159273?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/8675034338827159273/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=8675034338827159273' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/8675034338827159273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/8675034338827159273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/punto.html' title='punto'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-791388855121624458.post-699672585272546930</id><published>2009-08-05T04:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T04:41:32.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>otro color, risas...</title><content type='html'>el me robo un corazon, el corazon.&lt;br /&gt;solo tenia uno.&lt;br /&gt;anoche sume las risas de las ultimas semanas y salieron... zero lagrimas.&lt;br /&gt;te dare las gracias llenandote la cara con miel.&lt;br /&gt;pronto.&lt;br /&gt;tan pronto como el deseado y inevitable viernes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/791388855121624458-699672585272546930?l=elagrotaa4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/feeds/699672585272546930/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=791388855121624458&amp;postID=699672585272546930' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/699672585272546930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/791388855121624458/posts/default/699672585272546930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elagrotaa4.blogspot.com/2009/08/otro-color-risas.html' title='otro color, risas...'/><author><name>Mirela Constantinescu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07893323070754462083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
